Call of the Sea
by WindyCanyon
Summary: During a fierce storm, Arthur is throw from his ship and into the unforgiving sea. Only when, echoing in the waters around him, a voice rouses the will to fight and he finds a way to the surface. Swimming himself to an nearby island, Arthur lays exhausted and delusional on the shore until an angel eases him into slumber.
1. Chapter 1

The sky hung darkly over their heads and the sea demonstrated its displeasure with choppy waves shoving the boat from side to side. Water slapped against the side of the ship, and rain fell in big, stinging drops. The droplets didn't concern him at first, but suddenly the wind picked up and threw the sails against the mast. Thunder cracked on the horizon, and rushed towards them.

"Get that fucking sail up!" Arthur jumped over the railing of the upper deck down to the main deck, nearly slipping on the wet wood as the boat tossed. One of the main sails came loose from its ties and flapped violently in the wind. His small crew scrambled around him to tie down their bit of cargo. He squinted through the driving rain and spotted Jones about to climb up the ropes to the mast. "Jones!"

The blond's usually golden hair, now dark with water, stuck to his head and the boy's young face snapped in his direction. "Yes, Captain?" Jones' loud voice barely rose over the roar of the storm.

"Get off those ropes!" The teenager was young and new to his crew, still learning the ways of the ship, and his fondness for the young man invoked feelings of protectiveness in him.

"But, sir, the sail—"

He pulled Jones out of the way and gripped the jumping ropes. "Get below the deck!" Before the boy could protest, he climbed up the unsteady ratlines. As Arthur rose above the deck, he saw his crew running like ants below, but he didn't allow himself to worry. This was one of his better crews, they could handle themselves.

The ship jerked and he nearly lost his grip on the ropes. The storm was getting even more violent, but if he didn't get the sail tied up, they could lose their mast and that would mean they'd be stranded at sea, if they lived through the storm. On the other ratlines, he saw Beilschmidt climbing up with him. Arthur reached the top before Beilschmidt, and immediately began pulling the sail up. Beilschmidt reached the top and helped heave up the other side, moving with quick efficiency.

With the sail up and tied down, he moved back down the ropes. Arthur glanced back up at Beilschmidt, but something behind the man caught his eye.

"Big wave!"

The crew barely had time to react to his shout before the wave struck. Arthur clung to the ropes desperately as the water tossed him around. He spat out a mouthful of water before he continued to climb down again. Just as he loosened his grip, another wall of water hit.

The rope ripped from his hand and the water grabbed hold of him. Panic filled him as the water dragged him away from his ship. The sea rushed to meet him and the impact of hitting the unforgiving ocean knocked the breath from his lungs. Arthur clawed at the water, struggling to stay above it. He opened his mouth to call for help, but water filled it and smother his shout. Another wave pushed him below the surface and his clothes continued to drag him down. For a moment, Arthur flailed his arms, but he soon realized it was useless. Knowing there was no hope for him, Arthur stopped moving to watch the surface slip further and further out of reach.

_So, this is how I die: Drowned at sea. I really hate when Francis is right._ His lungs screamed for air, but there was none to be had. Arthur closed his eyes and let himself forget his body.

A buzzing started around him and hummed like someone was speaking, trying desperately to reach him, but he had wool over his ears. The voice, nice and soothing, floating over him like silk, despite the muffled words. He didn't notice the magnetic voice steadily growing clearer until the voice rang out around him in stunning clarity.

"Move your fucking legs, asshole!"

His eyes snapped opened and his sense came screaming back to him. His body jerked in response.

"Kick your legs! Do you want to die?"

_Well, not really, but I don't know how to swim,_ he replied to the alluring voice in his mind, as his legs twitched in response to follow the voice's orders.

"Fight! Fight for your life!" The mellifluous voice yelled at him frantically, but the panic did nothing to take away from its exquisite quality. He felt the voice resounding in him and lifting him up.

When his head broke the surface, Arthur realized he'd been kicking his legs. Sweet oxygen filled his lungs and he glance around. His ship was nowhere in sight and rain no longer fell. The sea had grown strangely calm and smooth, as if made of a deep blue glass.

Far away he spotted the gray of rocks and behind that, the green of life. He repeated the lulling voice, using it to raise his morals as he kicked himself towards the outcropping of rocks.

The voice didn't manifest itself again and Arthur convinced himself it was only his imagination, but the voice played in his head, disjointed into a mere echo of its former beauty. He couldn't forget it, even as Arthur grew tired and drained. The rocks were his goal and by moving his arms and legs, he swam efficiently through the water. In the back of his mind, Arthur realized this is his first time going into deep water without floundering and immediately sinking.

Like most things on the ocean, visual distance was an illusion—a trick of the eyes. Rocks that seemed close were actually a great distance away, but the sea was so flat that only a seasoned sailor could make a trustworthy judgement, and even then, it was only a guess at best. In his case, the rocks never seemed to get closer, no matter how far he swam. It seemed liked hours passed and the ocean began to pull him down again as exhaustion dragged at his limbs.

_At this rate, I'll never make it._ Arthur fixed his eyes on the far off shore, barely kicking his legs to keep himself afloat. He began sinking again and his legs jerk violently to keep himself up.

Arthur continued to swim, desperately trying to reach shore before his body gave out. All other thoughts dispersed as he focused entirely on a certain rock. Only that rock mattered at that moment and the voice. The fact that his life was in danger, his ship was gone, and he didn't know where he was could wait. Getting to that rock was his only thought. The closing distance between him and his goal didn't register in his mind until his feet hit soft sand and Arthur stumbled forward.

A relived cry escaped his lips and he dragged himself up the shore, out of the reach of the surf, where he laid face down in utter exhaustion. His body came back to him and his stomach heaved, expelling all the seawater and brine he'd swallowed.

Arthur rolled on to his back, away from the vomit, and stared at the sun with weary detachment. The storm clouds of before were nowhere to be seen, and the radiant sun burned his eyes. Closing them against the glare, Arthur tried to move, but his weakened muscles only twitched pitifully and he fought back unconsciousness. A shadow fell over his face and he struggled to open his eyes, and struggled even more to think of some sort of guard against possible attackers.

Over him, an ethereal man's face hovered, elegant and godly. The sun shone around the angelic man's head in a bright halo of light. Arthur chuckled hoarsely. "Are you God or the Devil?"

The shinning begin frowned, but said nothing.

"Angel of heaven, then," he murmured, almost incomprehensible. "If you are here, am I free of my bonds to this world?"

A gently hand brushed his cheek and slowly closed his eyes. Darkness overcame him and he sank into deep, forgiving unconsciousness, content with knowing he had no more need to worry.

...

Warmth surrounded him, safe and comforting, and he didn't want to open his eyes for fear of it dissolving into a dream. His body ached in more places than he could count, and he felt weakness deep in his bones. Arthur laid still for several moments, until the soft wisp of clothing sent him on guard. Silent footsteps approached him and he prepared himself to attack, although his body protested loudly against moving. Warm fingers brushed against his cheek and he sprung to catch the wrist and the person attached to it, but the person jerked back quickly and withdrew away from him. He opened his eyes, about to lunge again, but as soon as he saw the man, he froze. Such beauty should have no place on earth, but there it was before him in the form of a man.

Sudden remembrance flooded Arthur. Memories of the storm and swimming flashed in his mind, along with a voice urging him to the surface. He remembered reaching a shore and...an angel appearing before him. Arthur pressed a hand to his head and closed his eyes, warding off a headache. Other memories—strange memories—of sad, enchanting, wordless voices and the gentle playing of a stringed instrument floated across his mind, but when he reached for them, the memories eluded his grasp, replaying in only dim remembrance.

A tap on his shoulder startled him from his thoughts, and he looked up quickly. The captivating man had moved closer while he was distracted and offered him a cup of clear water. Only at the sight of the drink, did he realize how thirsty he was. Arthur took the cup and in one quick gulp, emptied the cup. He hesitated for a moment and said, "Thank you."

The man nodded silently and filled his cup again.

He drank more slowly this time and looked around. The room was lavish with intricate tapestries, rugs, and other exquisitely made items. The wealth startled him and he fixed his gaze on the stranger in from of him. The man dressed in shinning, white robes, falling all the way to his feet, watched him with simple interest. He seemed like that of another era with his ancient robes, but they hung elegantly off the man's slim body and suited him better than any breeches and shirt could. From under his clothing, strange tattoos peeked out and down the backs of his arms, but Arthur couldn't see the details of it. On his left arm, a simple, gold armband sat snugly in place against the man's inked, olive skin along with a matching bracelet on his right wrist.

"Who are you? Where am I? How did I get here? What happened to my crew? Have you seen my ship?" Arthur questioned without cease, impatient for answers and use to getting them quickly. He glanced around the room once more, noting the many windows letting in bright light. Out the window, he could see the ocean, calmer and smoother than he'd ever seen it before. "Well? Are you going to answer—"

A cushion hit him in the face and the man glared angrily at him, flailing his hands in the air.

"What was that for?" Arthur glared back, irritated by being interrupted.

The man tapped his throat and shook his head vigorously.

_Oh._ Arthur blinked in surprise. "You can't speak."

A nod answered him.

He must have come across as rude to the man he assumed took care of him by asking so many questions all at once and giving him no time to explain himself. "I'm sorry, but you see, I've just woken up in a stranger's home when I was so sure I was dead the last time I was awake."

Wary understanding lit the man's eyes and he nodded.

"Is this your home?"

Nod.

"Did you bring me here?"

The man gave him a withering look, but nodded.

"Do you know what happened to my crew or ship?"

Head shake.

"How long have I been sleeping?"

Three fingers.

"Hours?" Head shake. "Days?" Nod.

"Have I been sick? Have you been taking care of me?"

More nodding.

"Thank you," said Arthur, unused to such a one-sided conversation. "Do you have a name?"

The man pressed his lips together and help up a finger for him to wait. Hurrying to a table across the room, the man took something and brought it to him. It was a piece of parchment with small, still drying ink written on it in fine script. "_You may call me Lovino._"

"Lo...vino. Lovino? Hello, I am Arthur Kirkland." He found the simple sentence rather formal and reserved. "I'm glad you can read and write, it would have been hard to carry on conversation with only hand gestures."

Lovino rolled his eyes, and retrieved a quill and ink pot in preparation to answer more of his questions.

"Can you tell me where I am?"

"_You're on an island._"

"Off what coast?"

Lovino shrugged.

"Where is the closest mainland?" He frowned.

"_I'm not sure, but birds have flown here from the east, so I suspect the mainland you speak of is in that direction. I believe a fisherman once called it by the name of Italia, but I have never left the island and cannot confirm this myself._"

He eyed Lovino curiously. This man knew nothing of the world outside his island, but if what he said was true about the birds, land couldn't be far. "Why have you never left?"

"_It is better to stay._"

Confused by that answer, he asked another question. "Why did you help me?"

"_Should I not have?_" Lovino frowned.

The question startled him. "Well, I most likely would have died if you hadn't."

"_Exactly. I do not need a rotting corpse tainting the island. It is easier to care for you than bury you._"

"You are strangely honest," he said with a chuckle.

"_I see no reason to lie. Are you hungry?_"

He nodded. Lovino set the parchment and writing tools on the bed by his feet, and walked out of the room with surprising grace. When Lovino returned, he carried a bowl along with a small piece of bread. He sat up slowly and took the bowl and bread from Lovino, and movement by the door caught his eye.

Another man, just as unearthly beautiful as Lovino, poked his head in and waved excitedly when he saw Arthur looking.

"Who is that?"

An irritated expression came over Lovino's face before he even turned to look. Lovino chased the other man away from the door with a single fierce glare over his shoulder.

Arthur watched this and spooned soup into his mouth. The broth was weak, but it still held good flavor. Of course, anything tasted good after a few months at sea. Lovino seated himself on the edge of the bed, setting the parchment in his lap.

"Who was that?" He repeated, finishing the soup and bread quickly.

"_That is Feliciano, my brother. He, too, cannot speak._"

"Are you monks?"

Lovino gave him a strange look and shook his head.

"Then how have both you and your brother lost your voices?"

Lovino stared at him, a deep scowl darkened his lovely features. "_That is just how we are. Now, if there is nothing you require, I must go._"

"Ah, no, I am fine." Arthur recognized evasive maneuvers, but ingrained manners didn't allow him to pursue the subject of their speech when Lovino obviously didn't want to tell him about it.

"_I suggest you sleep more. Call Feliciano if you need anything._" Lovino stood, set the parchment on the table, and left the room.

Arthur stared at the doorway, before moving back under the soft blankets. He glanced down and saw his clothes had been replaced with a fine tunic. Fingering the fabric thoughtfully, he was surprised to find it of such a high quality. It felt like he wore nothing at all; the fabric was so light. Happy with his new clothes and pleasantly full, Arthur closed his eyes and let himself sink into sleep once more.

* * *

**New story! Bad me for starting another when there are others to finish, but oh well. I like this one a lot. I'm a freshman in high school and we'd just read The Odyssey when I had this wonderful idea for... Can you guess? Sirens!**

**-_Windy_**


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur woke to fingers pressed against his forehead, and he opened his eyes. Lovino hovered at his side and withdrew his hand when he saw his eyes were open. He sat up and yawned. The ache in his body had dispersed while he slept and left him feeling slightly odd, like he'd slept too long and his body had aged in that time.

The man help up a piece of paper for him to read. "_How do you feel?_"

"I am fine." He did a check of his body. Everything seemed in place, although he still felt weak, his body was no longer sore. "I feel rather good."

"_Get up._"

"Where are we going?" He carefully stood, his legs wobbled under him, but they held as he took a few steps. Weakness was to be expected after being bedridden for so long. Lovino placed a pair of thin sandals in front of him and he tied them on.

Lovino motioned him to follow and he exited the room. The man led him to a spacious dinning hall, where Feliciano sat in wait for them. The hall was bigger than necessary for only three people, and the furnishings were strange, lavish.

A grand table ran the length of the room, suggesting a time when large banquets were common. More tapestries hung on the walls, most depicting images of gods and nymphs carousing merrily together. The last time he'd seen such delicate work was in the home of a wealthy merchant, but the wall handing had shown great age with worn threads and faded colors.

The snap of fingers drew his attention and Lovino gestured for him to sit. Arthur seated himself and glanced over the lay out of colorful foods, although there was not a single meat dish. Across from him, the eyes of Feliciano bored into him with unbridled curiosity. Feliciano wore shinning robes just as his brother did and a gold collar-like necklace around his neck, forged in the same style as his older brother's bracelets.

"Er, hello. Your brother told me of you. I am Arthur Kirkland. Thank you for your hospitality."

Feliciano's face broke into a smile, his face shinning with gentle kindness, and the man waved a greeting. Arthur caught sight of sight of a tattoo identical to Lovino's running down his younger brother's arms. He glanced from Lovino to Feliciano. The two brothers had an undeniable resemblance with their shades of brown hair and godly beauty, but Lovino frowned where Feliciano smiled.

Lovino caught his eye and made various hand motions to his mouth and the food, holding his hands at a small distance apart to show size.

"Eat little?" Arthur frowned slightly. If he hadn't known Lovino was mute, he might have laughed at the motions.

The man nodded, and patted his stomach, making an exaggerated, scrunched face.

Then he began to understand better. Lovino didn't want him to eat too much for fear of making him sick. "I understand."

The younger brother covered his mouth as if to stifle a laugh, and Lovino shot him a stern glare, pointing a warning finger at him. Feliciano merely smiled sheepishly at his brother. Lovino shook his head and rolled his eyes. Noticing his staring, Lovino frowned again and poured honeyed wine into his cup.

"You seem to have a large amount of wealth, yet I see no servants," Arthur said, trying to be polite, and sipped the wine offered to him. He had never been one to drink wine, but the crisp, sweetness of the drink startled him. "Who all lives on this island?"

The eldest brother pointed to himself and Feliciano.

"Just you two?" He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Nodding quickly, Lovino gestured for him to eat.

"Yes, I'm going to eat." Arthur put only simple foods on to his plates, choosing nothing too heavy or thick, even though he wanted to try a bit of everything on the table. He could feel two sets of eyes on him as Arthur took a bite of food. "This is wonderful," he said happily caught off guard by the flavor. "I presume one of you is the cook?"

Both of the brothers pointed a finger at the other in unison. Feliciano covered his mouth in another silent laugh, while Lovino merely shook his head and snacked on a few grapes.

He ate in silence, sometimes glancing at one brother or the other. The quiet didn't bother him, for he was use to eating alone in his cabin, but such silence with two other people in the room was strange. He wasn't sure how to go forward, or if the two men in front of him were truly friendly. They were undeniably generous to save him and share their table, but they were other worldly—not quite of this earth or time, but instead timeless as the sea and sky. He couldn't help but be wary of the men, despite his gratitude to them for saving his life.

"I would think others would have come to this island by now," Arthur said after finishing his light meal. "It's curious that you are the only ones here."

Lovino stood and drew his attention to one of the colorful wall hangings. Depicted on the woven fabric, a whirl pool spewed rocks on one side and a six-headed monster lurked on the other, both promising death. Between them a boat bobbed on turbulent waves, caught in the middle of two evils.

"Sea monsters?" He frowned, wondering if Lovino took him for a fool.

The man shook his head and pointed at the water.

"Oh, dangerous waters." Arthur rubbed his fingers over newly acquired scraps on his knuckles. He must have gotten them when he was thrown from his ship. "Is that why you do not leave?"

Lovino's brows knitted together and the man shifted uncomfortably, agitated by Arthur's question. Even Feliciano seemed disturbed, turning to look at his brother for support. Finally, Lovino shook his head and sat down again, pouring himself a cup of golden liquid. Noting Lovino's discomfort, Arthur let the subject drop. He found it odd that Lovino's every emotion showed on his face when he felt them and he did nothing to hide them. Perhaps Arthur was just too use to liars and cut-throats. Even so, the strange honesty was refreshing and he couldn't find it in himself to use Lovino's bare emotions against him.

Feliciano stood suddenly and tugged his brother up and out of the room. Arthur, now left alone, rose and explored the large dinning hall. Aside from the delicate tapestries, finely made vases and sculptures stood along the walls. The dinning table itself was elaborately carved along with matching chairs. The detailed carvings seemed alive with nymphs dancing to the tune of some distant music. The richness made him uncomfortable. Arthur could appreciate luxury, but this wealth borderlined royalty.

A soft whistle startled him and snapped his attention towards the sound. Lovino stood in the doorway and beckoned him. Arthur followed as Lovino led him down the hall and back to his room. He took this moment to look at Lovino's tattoo closer. Feathered wings ran down the backs of Lovino's arms, delicately detailed to the point they almost looked real, and if Lovino held his arms out, he'd look like a bird spreading its wings to take flight. He resisted the urge to reach out and touch them, half expecting them to somehow be real, but he kept his hands at his sides and merely stared at the strange tattoo.

...

The blond followed behind him silently and he risked a glance back. His guest had a thoughtful expression and he snapped his fingers to catch his attention. Green eyes cut into him and he hesitated for a moment afraid that they saw through him, that they knew what he was. But the man's gaze wasn't fearful, nor was it intensely enchanted, just merely curious.

Getting a hold on himself, he led Arthur into the room Lovino had dedicated as his sickroom. Staying only a moment to make sure Arthur didn't need anything, he walked to the door.

"Where are you going?" Arthur stood in the middle of the room, watching him.

_Curse the Gods,_ he swore, biting his lip to keep his frustration from escaping. Lovino turned and scrawled on a near by piece of paper. "_To sit with my brother._"

"May I come too?"

_Why can't you stay in your damn bed, sailor bastard? I can't let you roam around with my blabber mouth brother. You're lucky I didn't leave you for Poseidon to claim, no good, sea loving, pirate._ He yearned to say the words that collided in his head, but kept his mouth shut and bit his silver tongue.

Arthur seemed to read the expression on his face and quickly added, "I've slept more than enough for now. I'm not tired."

_Then stay in your fucking room, pirate._ Despite his thoughts against it, he waved a hand vaguely for the blond to interpret as he please, and left the room. He heard soft steps behind him and a frown pulled at his lips. Lovino had hoped with Arthur safely tucked away in his room, he could speak without fear of bewitching the unfortunate sailor that had stranded himself on their island.

"Your house is rather large and old."

_Is it?_ Lovino glanced around. He didn't know how houses looked outside his own, but his mothers had told him the outside world was cruel and humans were savage. Although, he wouldn't put it past them to have lied about the mainland to keep him and his brother from leaving. Even now, he didn't know why they stayed, other than the obvious reasons.

He opened the door to the room he and Feliciano shared. His brother lifted his head and opened his mouth to speak, but snapped it shut when he caught sight of Arthur behind him. Feliciano looked from him to Arthur, questions in his eyes.

Shrugging, he simply shook his head and settled in his usual place atop a soft sheep throw by Feliciano's loom. Feliciano took to the stool in front of his loom, and continued to send him worried glances.

Arthur hovered in the doorway until Lovino finally took mercy on him and motioned for Arthur to sit beside him. Arthur seemed surprised, but sat on the rug without a word.

Green eyes burned into him, and he raised his brows questioningly.

"Why do you have no servants?"

A sigh rose from his chest and Lovino rubbed a hand over his eyes. _Does this man never stop asking complicated questions? Go get me a piece of parchment and a quill, you rotten pirate,_ he ordered in his mind and pointed to the desk on the far side of the room with all his writing tools.

The blond frowned, and Lovino almost thought he'd refused, but then Arthur rose and got the things Lovino needed. Writing quickly, he said, "_Our mothers, alone, were exiled to this island, and not allowed to leave. Servants were not necessary to keep them alive._"

"Why?"

"_They failed their master._"

"Who was their master?"

"_You ask too many questions. Stop._"

Embarrassed flush rose on Arthur's pale cheeks. "I apologize. It's not my place to pry, but your situation surprises me and I'm curious as to why it is like that."

"_We can't all be worldly sailors._" Lovino almost chuckled, but quickly caught himself. The blond's embarrassment was almost cute. For a sailor, Arthur was strangely polite. "_Where do you come from, wanderer?_"

"England is where I am from. It's far to the North, if you don't know. England is a large island, but the mainland is only a short boat ride away."

"_Why do you sail?_"

Arthur seemed surprised by the question. "To see other worlds...and to get away from my family. I was a young and rebellious man when I first set sail, wanting only to get under my lord father's skin. But the sailing life suited me and I had no reason to return to my old life."

"_That explains your manners. Most sailors are crude and ignorant._"

"There have been other sailors?"

"_Do you think you're the only sailor to wash up on this island? The waters are dangerous and some captains are fools enough to sail through despite any warnings._" From Arthur's expression, he'd take a guess that Arthur was one of those fools and now he was paying for his stupidity.

"I see. That is all I will question you of for now."

_Finally._ Lovino set aside his parchment and inkwell, and looked at Feliciano. His brother gave him a look of distress and made various gestures at Arthur. Despite his brother's flailing, he just waved a hand and pointed to the loom. Feliciano let out a huff and pointed to his lyre. He sighed softly and picked up the instrument. _Fine, if you won't shut up any other way, I'll play._

Feliciano smiled brightly and set about choosing colors of yarn from the basket beside him. Lovino watched Feliciano pass the shuttle back and forth before he braced the lyre in his lap. Strumming his fingers over the strings, the sweet melody wove through the air in a tapestry of notes. Words to the song stuck in his throat and he bit his tongue to fend off the temptation of letting them flow out with the music.

The light of the setting sun grew low and he let the music follow as Apollo's chariot plunged below the horizon and let his sister have the sky. Arthur leaned so close, enjoying the music, that he could feel the blond's soft breath on his cheek. He thought he heard someone chuckle and when he looked towards the sound, Lovino thought he saw golden curls flash by the window. He quickly wrote it off as rays from the dying light and continued playing, changing to a more soothing song to calm his unease. Feliciano touched his arm, startling him, and he cut off playing. It had grown dark and Feliciano rose to light a candle.

A soft snore sounded from beside him and Lovino glanced over to find Arthur fast asleep with a pillow under his head. After he made sure Arthur was asleep, Lovino let out a long breath. "The bastard is asleep," he whispered, and drew away from Arthur.

"Why did you let him in here?" Feliciano looked nervous, glancing at the window and at Arthur.

"What was I suppose to do? He's a guest, even if he is a dirty pirate."

"Lovino, you don't know that he's a pirate," Feliciano scolded him quietly, looking at him with worried eyes.

He frowned, shrugging off Feliciano's worry as nothing. "Shut up, I'm going to get this idiot to his room. That means no talking."

"I know, brother."

Lovino knelt in front of Arthur and slapped his cheeks lightly. Arthur's eyes opened and blinked at him. "Huh? I fell asleep. I'm sorry."

_So polite._ He chuckled internally and straightened into a standing position. Waving the man up, Lovino led Arthur back to his room.

"Good night," said Arthur, before closing the door quietly.

...

Feliciano loved weaving on his loom with Lovino playing his lyre to help him pass the time, but the music didn't soothe him this evening as it usually did. He remained tensed. It was that man sitting next to his brother that left him so uncomfortable. For some reason, he knew that Arthur shouldn't be here, that something bad would happen because he was here. It scared him and made his fingers tremble, but he didn't know what was wrong or how to keep it from happening.

Letting out a cleansing sigh, Feliciano set down the loom's shuttle. He listened to Lovino played and felt a bit calmer. Lovino had a way with music that could touch anyone's soul and silence the swirling thoughts in their head; it almost always made him smile to hear Lovino play. His feelings of content were suddenly interrupted by something whistling through the air.

He looked behind him and saw a shinning arrow buried in Arthur's chest. The reaction was immediate in Arthur. Arthur leaned forward, closer to Lovino, his eyes glowing with unadulterated longing for his brother. All this went unnoticed by Lovino, who was too caught up in his music to care.

Pressing a hand to his mouth to keep from calling out to his brother, he looked at the window. Framed in the fading light, Eros smiled at him and put a finger to his lips in an order of silence. The youthful God let out a soft chuckle and disappeared from the window. His heart cringed painfully and Feliciano looked back to Arthur and Lovino. Arthur's eyes still held their longing, the arrow in his chest melding into his heart, but when he looked for an arrow in Lovino's chest, Feliciano was relieved to see none there.

He touched his brother's arm and startled from his music induce trance. After speaking with him, he watched Lovino wake Arthur and take him to his room. Once they were gone, Feliciano went to the window and looked out. It was dark outside and he could see the ocean, smooth and flat as ever. Feliciano sighed and whispered into the soft night, "Please, protect us from this challenge, Lady Demeter. Don't let this be our end."

* * *

**Don't expect regular updates for this story. I'm still trying to finish other stories. Feel free to check out whatever story is holding my attention so strongly.**

**-_Windy_**


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